


Reconciliation No.3

by SnowMercury



Series: Another Day In MonsterFalls [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Monsterfalls AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowMercury/pseuds/SnowMercury
Summary: No.1 would be Stanley, No.2 would be Fiddleford, and No.3? Well, its a friend.





	Reconciliation No.3

Life is complicated. It is full of twists, turns, and an innumerable number of trips (no matter your interpretation of what exactly I mean by ‘trip’). We all make mistakes, and they may haunt us- but the ones that we can fix, we cannot just brush under the rug and pretend didn’t happen. Both in the sense that emotionally, they nag at us like a tick yet to be pulled out, or morally, in the sense that we should strive to fix our mistakes.

This is why, years after he had discovered the Fluvius stream and its cursed, shape-changing water, Dipper kept searching for a cure. This is why, over the course of thirty grueling years, Stan brought back his brother through the portal. This is why, years after he formed it, Fiddleford McGucket was instrumental in bringing down the Society of the Blind Eye. Even in mistakes we didn’t know were wrong at the time, or where the culpability lies elsewhere, we try to fix them. Even if we can’t fully undo the wrong, or the task has to be finished by someone else-Pacifica, opening the gates to the previously wronged to start to fix her family’s historical wrongs-, at least we have tried. It soothes our soul, gives us closure to events that would stay open wounds otherwise. Because neither doing nothing or collapsing in upon yourself in a guilt-ridden spiral of self-hatred do anything to help any mistake. They often only increase the issue.

Stanford Pines has taken steps to fix some of his wrongs from the past. Bill Cipher is dead, stone in the ground. Weirdmageddon has long been over. He has reconciled with his twin (on several arguments, but not all; using a fossil as a coffee table is downright unconscionable), and knows better than to try to project onto Dipper or Mabel his own insecurities (anymore). He may be a beast of more of a monstrous nature than before, due to the curse of the Fluvius, but he’s done his best. For the most part. He isn’t without his regrets. And how he treated the concerns of others during his later time spent beguiled by Bill, well, that was one thing he wanted to fix, too.

It was late into a dry summer day. The cicadas were chittering out in the trees, and the sky was lit up with vibrant oranges and pinks and purples- a late dusk. Ford had reached out to a friend of his, one he had driven away during the later stages of his time being tricked by Bill in this world- not Fiddleford. Fiddleford, he had long ago reached out to, and realized once again how deeply he had fallen in love with his partner, and now felt that during each and every day he lived with him. It had been tough, and there had been a reconciliation, tears, and apologies- and a promise to each other, to be there for each other. To trust each other’s concerns and intent. But that is a different story. 

No, this other friend was of a platonic nature, but still an important and close one nonetheless. And still someone he had driven away, and now knew very little about how to approach. It had been many years, but at least David had agreed to come back to visit- for some reason, he had been avoiding the area. No doubt because of Ford, he thought, as it seemed so many other things had been his fault so far. The sphinx was sitting at the kitchen table, looking down at the version of Journal 3 he had somehow found after Weirdmageddon. For some reason, the Bottomless Pit had thought it was a good idea to spit it out- and he had checked, it was the right one. It was his, or close enough to be indistinguishable. 

It didn’t describe his account of drinking the water of the Fluvius stream, nor much from long after Weirdmageddon, but. It was a good starting point, letting David read it, and while he would be willing to answer questions for David, somehow it seemed.... Like it would be dishonest, marred by time. 

So that was why he had a coffee and an empty glass on the table, the coffee for himself, and the glass for.... whatever it was David would want, out of the options. When he had known the siren, he had had a weird habit of choosing one drink and only drinking that for days, and it had never been water, and Ford hadn’t the slightest clue what the latest choice would be.

So all that was left to do would be to wait. He had been waiting, but not for long. Most of his day had been spent with Stan, out fishing on the lake. Ford closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how the sun had been bright but it didn’t stop the chill when they had entered the shade; nor did it seem to warm him up particularly fast when the whole boat had flipped over during an interestingly timed prank by Stan. Naturally, Ford would get him back. He had a bit of an idea of what to do- some kind of trap on the remote, perhaps. Maybe he could work with Mabel and Dipper to rig it to throw a handful of glitter at him when he tried to change the channel. Ford smiled at the thought, hand-paws already itching to start work on that project.

The sound of a doorbell was what knocked him out of his thoughts, summoning him back to awareness. That, too, was a gift- that he had recovered enough to not immediately be sent into a full-on panic by something unexpected. His heart had sped up, certainly, and maybe he was nervous, maybe his tail was twitching, but it was not nearly the level that his panic attacks had been on before. It was manageable; he was working through it. 

With a deep, calming breath- (in fast, hold, out-six-seven-eight. repeat.)- Ford stood up and approached the door, reaching out to the handle. But for some reason, he hesitated. He couldn’t say exactly why he hesitated, in the moment- it felt like a big moment, was all, and he didn’t want to rush it and mess this all up. He had had very few friends the long thirty years in the portal, and this was an important step, he felt- to reconnecting with who he was. 

Having solidly re-convinced himself, he finally grasped the handle, claws making a clicking sound against the metal. And he pulled it open to see- someone who was not David. They were humming slightly, looking out to the forest, eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses and a cap, and were what appeared to be a mailperson. But that didn’t make sense- the only mailperson in Gravity Falls had been turned into a werewolf by the Fluvius, and certainly wouldn’t be doing rounds this late at night- 

And that was when he recognized the humming. 

The mailperson turned to him, humming dying out and what he saw changed between blinks- the stranger turned into a blue-finned, orange-furred creature that he recognized as none other than David. His friend’s horns had grown since the last time he had seen him- but other than that, still surprisingly looked much the same. Although, looking considerably shocked. 

“Ford?” David begins, squinting and his head tilted to the side, “Is that _you_?” His voice holds the vaguest sense of astonishment, all stirred together with- well, Ford can’t quite place all of the emotions there. Maybe, once upon a time, he would have been able to. But he has not seen David in some thirty-odd years. 

Stanford opens his mouth, about to speak- but finds himself unable to quite finish his sentence. This may be because he was unable to start it, either. His throat seems twisted and contorted with worry and anxiety and the feeling of knowing- this is someone he considered a friend, once, and would like to consider a friend once again. Considering the last note they ended on, how it was as sour as a Warhead’s candy- well. There was a lot he felt he needed to prove had changed. 

And Ford, Ford notices- he notices that David hadn’t stuttered over his name, or included a hastily corrected ‘Stanford, I mean’. David hadn’t included that distance, had chosen to use the nickname he had usually called Stanford, and in this context- it causes a small spark of hope that this might end well, after all. 

That all does not last as long as it seems, though, because Stanford nods, he smiles, and he takes a step back, lifting one arm to gesture inside. 

David, not noticing or not caring about how Ford’s words have been stolen away by the frog in Ford’s throat, takes a step in, carefully making sure his own tail won’t get caught as the door closes. He looks to Ford’s face again, searching. Searching much like he had that night in the bunker, assessing. “Mind if I ask what happened?”

Ford laughs a rough bark of a laugh, the sound surprising him even. He starts back to the table, gesturing to the other chair with one paw-hand. “I don’t mind one bit. It is a bit of a long story though, how I turned into a sphinx and why I didn’t reach out sooner, both. But, ah, the latter is better covered in my third journal, if you’d want to take a look.” David sits down in the chair, noticing the empty glass next to the coffee mug and quietly deciding not to mention that at all. He looks across the table to Ford, who has taken the other seat and picked up the coffee mug, holding it in his paws. 

“Well... You know, I’m willing to listen, if you want to talk. Whichever you want to talk about. I won’t deny, I’ve definitely been worried about why you hadn’t reached out, but I thought...” David pauses, leaning forward and resting both of his forearms on the table. “I’d thought you just didn’t want to be bothered, for whatever reason. To focus on yourself, or to- well, I’m going to be honest, I was worried about your involvement with Eloo. But I didn’t- it felt like either I was endangering Shifty, or had already waited too long to reach out, or- I had walked near, once, contemplated asking if you were okay here, and I saw you in the window. I thought if you had wanted to reach out, you would have. And maybe you still needed space.”

Ford takes a moment while listening to reflect on exactly who David had seen in the window, before figuring that it must have been when Stan was posing as him- and then also takes a moment to think about if he should be unnerved by that admittance.But no, he figures he would have done much the same with figurative radio silence for years, with no way to tell if the person was alive or dead. Besides, if David thought Stan was him, then he couldn’t have been too close or in-depth with checking in, given that David would have noticed that Stan was Stan and not Ford with enough time. “That was my brother.” 

David blinks, and his fins perk up. “You reconnected? I’m glad! It seemed to really bother y-“

“We hadn’t at the time. We’ve only really made up for a few years now. I was, ah, otherwise indisposed.”

David squints, trying to figure out what Ford might mean by that. “It must have been hard, living in the same house for so long while still feeling wronged.”

Ford opens his mouth, hesitates, and shrugs. “Well, I wasn’t exactly... Living here still. At the time. I was in another dimension.”

There are crickets. Not the sound of crickets chirping- just, somewhere in the woods outside there were crickets that are ultimately unrelated to this conversation completely. I just thought you might like to know that. 

David stares across the table, looking even more surprised and a tad less confused compared to his expression from earlier. He nods once and leans back, staring up at the ceiling, squinting once again. His mouth is a solid line as he hums for a second- before it cuts off as soon as he realizes he was humming. 

“Sounds like quite the adventure. But, I’m having trouble with just one part of that statement?” David looks back to Ford, entire face scrunched up in concentration. “Uh, _how_?”

Ford smiles again, and taps the journal on the table in front of them. “It’s all in here. I- well, I believe it’d be better to read what I wrote previously on the subject, as it has been quite a few years and I’d rather... It would be regrettable if I misspoke for any part of the story, or misremembered. You deserve the truth, as honest as I can give it.”

David looked down at the book, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he listened. He closes them for a second, taking a deep breath and looking up at Ford, smiling. It is a gentle smile, small, fragile. “Thank you for trusting me with this.” There is a pause while David’s smile grows to a larger one, more joking. “Although I didn’t expect to get homework from this visit, I’m sure I can make it work.” 

Ford grins. “Oh, I’m fairly sure you’re as excited to experience the classic assigned reading experience as you were when we met Mothman!” 

“He’s a celebrity in cryptid-dom, how could I not be excited to meet him! Sure, the whole asking you for money thing was a bit sketchy, but still!”

“I’m not convinced he actually needed the money and wasn’t trying to see how much money he could get someone to just give him. In hindsight, that is.”

David scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Ford’s smile softens. “As for trusting you, well... I know we’ve had our differences. I’ve made my mistakes, my fair share of bad decisions- as have you, but there was one mistake of mine that we can both agree was much larger than those. And I understand that. But... I would like to call you a friend, if that’s alright.” I don’t think I stopped trusting you, he doesn’t say. 

There is a moment of consideration, while David realizes the change in the atmosphere, and adjusts. He nods. “Ford, it really isn’t my place to be angry with you about that anymore. I was at the time, because Shifty couldn’t be angry on his own behalf. Because I thought- I thought you were helping Eloo. It took some self-reflection afterwards to realize you just weren’t aware of who he really was, but by that time... I had Shifty to think about. I wanted to go back to help you all the same, but I couldn’t, not with Shifty. I- That doesn’t mean it was okay of me to abandon you when you needed a real friend, though. Especially since I’ve since learned more about Eloo’s powers of the mind while keeping how you were speaking about Shifty in mind. And I’m sorry, for that.”

Ford feels a tiny bit of his anxiety and worries get cut off and shrivel away. 

David smiles. “I’d be glad to be your friend, if you want to be mine.”

Ford nods. “Of course!”

There is a moment of silence. It trespasses close by the label of ‘uncomfortable’, but ultimately decides that it doesn’t like labels and would rather just exist, free of society’s expectations or limitations. 

David gestures to Ford in the silence, looking vaguely perplexed. “So, what’s with the whole sphinx thing?”

Ford brightens up, looking excited. “Well, have you ever heard of the Fluvius Cantatis?”

David blinks. His expression goes on a long, arduous journey, traveling through the lands of recognition and doubt, before winding up in the famed kingdom of increduliment. “You didn’t.”

Ford grins. “The whole town did. It started when my great nephew Dipper brought back samples from a strange river he had found in the woods...”


End file.
